"Forgive my stupidity; now I understand—the cunning hand of Monsieur Pagan will have been at work upon the contents of that flask. How far-sighted you are to keep a tame chemist. But how will the bottle find its way to the seat of the chair?"
"One of my boys will take care of that, of course."
"You have spies within the gates, then?"
"Haven't I just been telling you I never leave anything to chance?"
"But I should say you leave everything to nothing else, when you repose faith in the loyalty of human hearts. Trust one man with your life, and you forfeit all your right to sleep; trust two, you may count yourself already betrayed. Trust nobody: it is the rule that made the Lone Wolf what he was."
"But you're trusting me—"
"Pardon, monsieur," Lanyard smiled; "but—you will admit—under duress."
"Well! but I'm trusting you—"
"With a cordon of God knows how many spies posted about the Vandergrift residence, beyond, to see that I am not interfered with while at work."
"But that's only a commonsense precaution," Morphew uneasily growled.